Krieger Farms: The Taste Of Science
by Red Witch
Summary: Another day, another crazy scam to make money. Another disaster. Another international incident...


**The disclaimer telling all of you that I don't own any Archer characters is in the lab. Once again, real life news inspires some madness from my tiny little mind. Admit it, you can totally see Krieger doing this. **

**Krieger Farms: The Taste of Science **

"So because of Cheryl," Cyril addressed several members of the Figgis Agency in the bullpen. "The copy room is off limits for the next few days."

"HA HA HA HA HA!" Cheryl was heard cackling down the hall. And then some crashes.

"What's left of it," Pam snickered.

"I'd like to point out that she's not whacked out on any of **my drugs,"** Krieger spoke up. "This time."

"Where did she get those pills?" Ray asked.

Pam shrugged. "She said she got them at some sex club she found."

"Knowing Cheryl that could be literally **anywhere**," Ray pointed out. "Remember back in New York when she thought she was at a rave on the subway?"

"That's how she got banned for life from the New York subway system," Pam nodded. "And so did I. And Archer. That was a fun weekend."

CRASH!

"Haven't you tried getting her out of there?" Lana asked.

"She won't leave," Pam said. "Honestly it's better if we leave her in there."

SMASH!

"Well, maybe not for the copy machine…" Pam admitted.

"There's another expense for the books," Cyril groaned.

CRASH!

"HA!" Cheryl laughed.

"Or more…" Cyril sighed. "Which leads me to new business."

"Which is?" Lana asked.

Cyril responded. "Krieger's new business."

Pam rolled her eyes. "Let me guess, Krieger talked you into lending him some of our money into his latest pet project?"

"I didn't have to talk very much," Krieger said. "He was surprisingly agreeable."

"We are desperate to make money," Cyril sighed. "And yes, I know. We can't get any more desperate than Krieger."

Lana groaned. "What insane stupid get rich quick scheme as Krieger come up with this time?"

"It's not insane or stupid!" Cyril snapped.

"Yeah, right," Ray scoffed.

"No, Cyril's right," Krieger said. "I've come up with a new scientific breakthrough!"

"That's what you said about the Pigglys," Ray pointed out.

"And the Shrinky Dinks," Lana added.

"Don't forget about the brown note machine," Pam added.

"Oh dear God, I did," Lana groaned.

"Me too," Ray nodded.

"I'll show you," Krieger said. "Come to my lab."

"What every mad scientist says to his latest human guinea pigs," Ray quipped.

Pam looked at him. "You mean like **you?** You know? When Krieger turned you into a cyborg?"

"Oh, dear God," Ray turned pale. "You're right."

"And I'm right about this becoming our latest disaster," Lana said.

"It won't be a disaster!" Cyril said.

"Said every lead character in a disaster movie," Ray quipped. "Which our lives resemble more and more every day."

"Just see what I've got in the lab," Krieger said.

Five and a half minutes later…

"Voila!" Krieger showed the gang a small grill with several links on it.

"Meat," Lana said simply. "You have meat."

"You're having a barbecue?" Pam asked.

"I'm growing lab-based **meat!**" Krieger grinned as he pointed to his specimens. "Behold! Krieger Farms sausages!"

"Lab based…_meat?_" Lana blinked.

"Did we call it or what?" Ray groaned. "What the hell is lab-based meat?"

"It's the latest thing in culinary science," Krieger grinned. "You take some animal tissue or create artificial tissue from stem cells, clone it and multiply it. Mix in a little animal by product serum, some amino acids. And behold! Clean meat!"

"Doesn't look **that clean** based on the looks of that grill," Ray said.

"No! Clean as in no animals were killed to make this," Krieger said.

"You're cloning **hamburgers?"** Ray blinked.

"Sausages," Krieger corrected. "I'm cloning sausages."

"This is going to be like the Mexican Sausage Snafu isn't it?" Ray groaned.

"It's not going to be the Mexican Sausage Snafu," Krieger told him.

"Krieger the scheme has **sausages** in it!" Lana snapped. "Of course, it's going to be **exactly** like the Mexican Sausage Snafu!"

"It's not going to be the Mexican Sausage Snafu!" Cyril said.

"What makes you say that?" Ray asked.

"Well for one thing we're shipping these babies overseas into Europe," Krieger pointed out. "Nowhere near Mexico."

"Of course, you are," Lana groaned. "PAM!"

"What?" Pam was chomping on a grilled sausage. "It's not that bad. I'm eating it!"

"Said the human garbage disposal," Ray winced.

"That burrito was still good," Pam snapped. "And it was only in the garbage half a minute at most."

"I rest my case," Ray said.

"Things the prosecutor will say when we get to court," Lana added.

"No, because I'm clearly labeling this product **lab grown meat**!" Krieger corrected. "It's not a scam!"

"It's a rip off," Ray quipped.

"It's **not **a rip off," Krieger defended. "It's cutting edge science! Think about it! This could be the answer to world hunger! Help conserve our dwindling resources! Space travel! The possibilities are endless!"

"**That's** the part that worries me," Lana said. "Endless opportunities for disaster, destruction…"

"Look I've done some research on this," Cyril said. "This is actually a **thing!"**

"So is bankruptcy court," Lana looked at him. "Which is where we are headed if you've invested any money into this!"

"I'm calling it Krieger Farms," Krieger grinned. "The Taste of Science!"

"Actually, it tastes more like turkey sausage," Pam chomped on some more.

"I ain't touching that sausage," Ray said. "Phrasing I know."

"Something is going to go wrong," Lana said. "Either people get poisoned or mutated…"

"It's **not** going to happen!" Krieger protested. "This is just regular meat that happens to have been grown in a lab."

"Your lab," Lana pointed out.

"And I'm guessing the meat is from one of your Pigglys?" Ray sighed.

"Oh, don't be ridiculous," Krieger snapped. "Even I'm not that stupid to grow radioactive pig meat. A second time. Okay technically third…"

"This is a **bad idea**!" Lana glared at Cyril. "It's such a bad idea, it's practically **screaming **Bad Idea at the top of its lungs onstage at Bad Idea Idol!"

"Lana we're **doing this!"** Cyril snapped. "End of story."

"No, this is just the **beginning **of the story," Ray said. "Which will end on the six o'clock news!"

"How much did you invest in this?" Lana groaned.

"Ten grand," Cyril said. "Which is a bargain in today's market!"

"This only cost **ten thousand dollars?"** Lana asked.

"We-ll…" Krieger paused. "I already had a lot of the equipment beforehand. And the stem cells. And some additives…You'd be amazed how many experiments can be recycled. And how many of my materials came from the recyclables."

"This does not bode well," Lana sighed.

"Cyril," Ray said. "We can barely afford to spend **ten dollars** on one of Krieger's schemes. Let alone ten thousand!"

"It will be fine!" Krieger protested. "I promise I'll at least double the money. If I can. Unless this fails then you know? We're out of luck."

"This agency has been running on luck for years," Ray groaned.

Cyril coughed. "We also should not tell Mallory about this."

"Considering I'm not in the mood to remove blood splatter from the walls," Ray began. "I agree."

"You know this is going to end up like the Mexican Sausage Snafu, right?" Lana sighed.

"It is **not**!" Cyril snapped. "And besides we actually made a little money from that."

"We almost went to jail for that," Lana glared at him.

"Lucky for us Cheryl's cousin died when she was stupid enough to eat her own poisoned meat," Pam nodded. "Went into a coma and died before she could rat us out to the cops."

"I'm telling y'all **right now,"** Ray spoke up. "I am **not **running in the desert in the middle of the night carrying your mutated meat again like a pack mule on uppers!"

"I'm shipping the meat overseas!" Krieger snapped. "God! And you got new sneakers for that didn't you?"

"I got sand in them," Ray looked at him.

"_Poor baby_," Krieger mocked in a syrupy voice. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it better? Hmmm?"

Ray paused. "Actually…"

"NO!" Lana shouted. "Why do we **always **do this? Why do we always fall for Krieger's crazy schemes?"

"**What else** have we got to do around here?" Pam asked.

Lana paused. "Point taken. But mark my words, this will be a disaster."

"It's **not** going to be a disaster," Cyril said.

Two Days later…

"This is Grace Ryan with Wolf News," The familiar red-haired anchorwoman spoke from her news desk. "Our top story is what Europe is calling the biggest sausage related disaster since World War II. An outbreak of mass poisoning and strange symptoms in Norway linked to a brand of lab grown meat has reached almost epidemic proportions."

Cyril, Krieger, Pam, Ray and Lana were watching the large screen TV in the bullpen. "Epidemic huh?" Lana looked at Cyril and Krieger.

"Called it!" Ray called out.

"Polse Gate, AKA Sausage Gate…" Grace reported. "Started less than a few days ago when several people were reported with symptoms similar to poisoning after eating lab-based meat products."

"That doesn't prove it's mine!" Krieger protested.

"Some people were admitted with strange hallucinations," Grace went on. "And some signs of mild radiation poisoning."

"Still doesn't prove it was me," Krieger added. "There are parts of Russia that **still **haven't recovered from Chernobyl and the Cold War!"

"The oddest symptom however," Grace added. "Was that some people ended up growing small horns on their foreheads."

Everyone looked at Krieger. "You used samples from that damn unicorn pig you made, didn't you?" Pam snapped.

"Damn it," Krieger groaned. "I guess those cells were more unstable than I thought."

"Boy did we call it," Ray blinked.

"We did," Lana nodded. "We **did!**"

"It's not like either of you are old gypsy women," Pam said. "I admit this is getting rather predictable."

"This incident has further fueled the debate over lab grown meats," Grace reported. "The meats were traced back to an unknown laboratory farm somewhere in Germany. Already Norwegian officials and lawyers have prepared a class action lawsuit against the company responsible."

"So…" Ray paused. "We just poisoned and mutated a small portion of Norway?"

"Looks like," Lana sighed. "Called it!"

"Wait," Pam raised her hand. "I ate the meat. How come I didn't get sick or grow a horn?"

"You're already horny," Ray quipped. "Phrasing!"

"Pam," Cyril said. "You ate cocaine like it was candy for months. Your system can tolerate pretty much anything."

"Like your linguini and clam sauce breakfasts," Ray groaned.

"That's only on rare occasions," Pam snapped.

Ray asked. "Like on days ending with a Y?"

"Okay maybe one or two days a week at most," Pam admitted. "But still I can't believe nothing happened to me!"

"Pam you've been exposed to dozens of different kinds of drugs over the years," Cyril told her. "We all have!"

"We've been exposed to more chemicals than one of Krieger's lab rats," Ray nodded. Then his eyes widened. "Oh, dear God. We **are** Krieger's lab rats!"

"Would it help if I said you were my favorite lab rats?" Krieger asked.

"NO!" Everyone else shouted.

"Can you just shut up for a minute?" Lana asked. "I'm kind of worried about the lawsuit that will probably be levied against us!"

"Relax. Fortunately, Krieger is a very popular name overseas," Krieger said. "Mostly in Germany admittedly. That's where I used a dummy location to ship the meat from."

"The unknown company is only known as Krieger Farms," Grace reported. "Company representatives from The Krieger Corporation, Krieger Industries, Krieger Chemicals, Krieger-Corp, Kriegerstien Corporation, Kriegerland Industries, Krieger-Garden Pharmaceuticals, and the Krieger-Krieger-Krieger-Hausfrautten-Kriegerstien Limited have denied any involvement. Again, **seven different** companies in Germany have denied any involvement."

"See?" Krieger pointed.

"Even though no German company has taken responsibility for the tainted sausages," Grace reported. "Germany is being held accountable because it is where the meat was shipped from. This has caused tensions between Germany and Norway to a degree where both countries have placed excessive tariffs on each other's goods and services."

"So…" Ray paused. "Now Germany and Norway are in a trade war because of us?"

"Looks like," Lana groaned as she shut off the TV. "Again…Called it!"

"You don't have to rub it in," Cyril looked at her.

"I think I do," Lana said. "I really think I do."

"This is worse than the Mexican Sausage Snafu," Ray remarked.

Pam asked. "What do we call this one?"

"The Krieger Farms Fiasco?" Ray suggested.

"Good one," Pam said.

"It's not a fiasco," Krieger said. "I covered our asses!"

"How did you do that?" Lana asked.

"We-ll…" Krieger paused.

"Wow, what great time…" Cheryl wobbled into the bullpen. She was wearing a dress made out of paper and tape. "I don't know what I did or what I took but boy did I have a fun party!"

"You were drugged out of your gourd," Lana told her. "And spent almost three days unconscious and drooling."

"Nah, I'm pretty sure I was at a party," Cheryl waved. She held a phone in her hand. "Huh. I got some messages."

Cyril remarked. "Waking up in a destroyed copy machine room after a bender wearing nothing but a paper dress should send you **plenty **of messages."

"Apparently I bought some kind of meat company," Cheryl said. "For five million dollars."

"You didn't…" Ray looked at Krieger.

"Holy sausage snacks!" Pam whistled.

"And now Tunt Industries is being sued by some Norwegian guy," Cheryl added as she looked at her phone. "Ugly is throwing a hissy fit. Eh, I don't care. Just have my lawyers take care of it."

"Right," Krieger took a paper bag out of his coat. "Oh Cheryl…I got you some new improved groovy bears I want you to try."

"Gimmie!" Cheryl grabbed them.

"They're called Forget Me Groovies," Krieger said without a beat as Cheryl ate some.

"Why are they called…?" Cheryl began then stopped. "What was I talking about?"

"Nothing important," Krieger told her.

"Why am I wearing a paper dress?" Cheryl blinked.

"You went to an Earth Day party," Krieger said. "It was lame. You should go lie down and not look at your phone for the next few days."

"Okay…" Cheryl blinked. She then passed out on the floor.

Krieger shrugged. "Eh, she's fine."

"Yeah we don't care about that," Cyril waved. "Krieger…You sold Cheryl your company for five million dollars while she was drugged up and out of her mind? Why didn't **I **think of that?"

"Cheryl has never really been **in her right mind** since I've known her," Lana admitted. "Couldn't have been that hard."

"It's amazing what you can do with phones and online banking nowadays," Krieger shrugged. "And a computer program that can remove all traces of an original company."

"You have **five million dollars**?" Pam was stunned.

"It's not as much as you'd think," Krieger said. "There was a least a million and a half in shipping fees and other fees. And I had to pay my bar tab in a few places. And upgrade my lab. And I paid for a new copy machine. That took a good chunk out."

"That's still four and a half million…Sweet Jesus," Ray was stunned.

"I like to think of it as a rainy-day fund. By the way," Krieger took out some checks from his lab coat. "Here are some checks for fifty grand for each of you. Think of this as a bribe…"

"To keep our mouths shut from Ms. Archer?" Pam asked.

"Her too," Krieger shrugged.

"Krieger Farms?" Ray asked innocently. "Never heard of it."

"Noope," Lana shook her head. "Doesn't ring a bell."

"There are a lot of Kriegers out there," Pam said. "Especially in Germany. Could be anyone."

"I was too busy watching porn," Cyril said quickly. Everyone looked at him. "Sorry. It's my standby. I'll have to think of a new one."

"Actually, in your case," Ray said. "It works for you."

"At least **something** works around here," Lana sighed as she and the others accepted the checks. "This won't bounce right?"

"The check I wrote my new sound system for the Rush Van didn't…" Krieger told her. "And I just bought that this morning. Along with the new copy machine."

"I'm good," Cyril nodded. "See Lana? Ray? This wasn't a complete disaster after all!"

"Just a regular one," Ray said. "Honestly at this point…"

Lana looked at Cheryl. "How long is she going to be out?"

"About twenty-four hours," Krieger shrugged. "Just long enough for them to deliver the new copy machine."

"I think I'm going to get a lock for that copy machine door," Cyril thought.

"Might not be the worst idea," Pam agreed. "But where do we put her until then?"

"Stick her in Ms. Archer's office," Ray suggested. "That way if she does any more damage, no one would care."

"Except for Mallory," Lana pointed out.

"Do you want to put her in **your office**?" Ray asked.

Lana paused. "Noope!"

"If Ms. Archer gets mad," Ray said. "Cheryl gets the blame."

"Or we could just say Ms. Archer trashed her own office while she was as high as Neil Armstrong," Cyril said. "I mean she did drink all those expensive champagnes without realizing it."

"Did she?" Pam asked.

"Well not the Grand Cru," Cyril pointed to Lana. "Or some of her extra Glengoolie Gold…" He pointed to Ray.

"Or her aged bourbon," Ray pointed to Cyril.

"But as far as she knows," Cyril said. "She did."

Krieger spoke up. "She also bought several things on Nile Prime with her credit card."

"Don't worry," Pam spoke up. "We also bought some secondhand furs and put them in her closet. That will throw her off the scent."

"Then it's settled," Cyril said. "Our official story if the office is trashed and Ms. Archer doesn't find Cheryl in it, is that Ms. Archer trashed it herself in a drunken rage."

"It's not like she hasn't done it before," Lana sighed as she picked Cheryl up.

"Life is so much easier with rich drunks," Pam nodded.

"Yeah if we can get a couple more we'd be set for life," Krieger nodded.

Cyril groaned. "I just hope we don't end up with life as a sentence considering everything we've done."


End file.
